


Gates of Janus

by traitorhero



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Immortality, Incomplete for now, Might come back to it some day, Pieces of Eden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traitorhero/pseuds/traitorhero





	Gates of Janus

 

The sound of fighting dragged him back to awareness. Desmond groaned and tried to open his eyes. The darkness in front of them refused to abate. His heart began to beat faster as he tried to move and found that he could not.

A gunshot rang out, and Desmond heard a body hit the ground near him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to the people fighting. A dry choke was all he managed to get out before he began to spasm, his lungs attempting to take in air that wasn’t there. The darkness that blinded him seemed to grow more oppressive. Someone ran to him, their feet echoing on the floor. A zipper pulled back, but no light pierced the darkness.

Someone swore, the voice familiar for reasons that Desmond could not place. The small hiss of the release of a hidden blade was little comfort, even as another body slumped to the floor near him. Fingers prodded uncomfortably into his neck as Desmond tried to draw breath again. Another gunshot rang out as the familiar person called out someone else. He felt his chest spasm again, and almost welcomed the oblivion that came with it.

* * *

 

 

Desmond gasped, his entire body lifting off the bed before falling back with a soft thump. He opened his eyes, but blinked them shut just as quickly. The room he was in was bright, the sun shining in through unshuttered windows.

Deciding against opening his eyes again so soon, Desmond tried to determine what exactly he was lying on. The sheets felt rough, but moved easily under his touch. Briefly he considered a hospital, but the lack of beeping machines and the thick sheets made that less than likely. Desmond let his hand fall limp under the blankets. The only other place he could think of was Abstergo. Weeks of being their prisoner and sleeping in their cell had made him very accustomed to their bedding arrangements. And if Abstergo had him, that could only spell bad news for his future.

The future. If he was alive, that meant the solution hadn’t worked. The world had burned, and he was still alive. Desmond felt his heartbeat speed up, the visions Minerva had shown him dancing behind his closed lids. His breathing hitched as his hands curled into fists.

“ _Be calm_.”

Desmond froze at the familiar voice. Light footsteps came and stood at his bedside as Desmond cautiously opened his eyes. Blinking to adjust them to the light, he turned his head and stared into the face of a man who had been dead for more than two centuries.

“ _You are safe now, Desmond_.” Connor said. “ _Rest. Your body is still recovering_.”

“ _Did it work_?” he asked. His voice sounded strange to his ears, the words throaty and flat. Connor nodded.

“ _Rest_.”

Desmond found himself heeding the words, his eyes falling shut once more. In what seemed like barely a moment later, he opened them again.

The light was not as bright as it had been when he first awoke. Judging by the fading red streaks and gathering darkness outside the windows, he guessed that only a few hours had passed since he had fallen asleep. Desmond pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed, taking in his surroundings for the first time. The room was easily recognizable, from the chess board on the coffee table to the stuffed eagle between the windows.

Desmond slid out from between the sheets, surprised at the the soft cotton texture compared to the rough ones from earlier. The wooden floorboards of the room were cold to his bare feet, but not uncomfortably so as he sat on the edge of the bed. He stood slowly, the room spinning as he got his bearings. Feeling stable enough, Desmond crossed the room and peered out the window. The slight draft from it made him shiver in the t-shirt and sweatpants he was dressed in, but confirmed that he was where he thought.

“The view is different fro when I was a young man.” Connor said, silently padding up next to him. Desmond flinched, unused to people being able to sneak up on him. “I am glad you are awake.”

“I was only out for a few hours,” Desmond said with a shrug, trying to play it casual.

“Half a month, actually,” another voice corrected him.

Desmond whirled around, falling into a defensive position. Two more familiar men stood in the doorway, each looking amused at his reaction in their own way.

“Safety and peace, Desmond,” Altair said. He stepped forward and extended a hand in greeting.

“You gotta be shitting me,” Desmond said. He heard Connor sigh beside him as Ezio began to chuckle.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Desmond,” Ezio said, stepping past Altair.

Desmond took a step back and shook his head, careful to keep all three Master Assassins in his sight. His hands stayed at his sides, loosely curled and ready to strike. He let his eyes slide past Altair and Ezio to the doorway behind them, trying to judge the best way to get past them.

“It won’t work,” Altair told him, drawing Desmond’s eyes back to him.

Desmond raised an eyebrow before leaping into motion. He jumped onto the bed just before Connor could grab him, using the momentum to push off of Ezio’s shoulders and shove the man onto it instead. He grunted when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his legs in midair and drag him down.He managed to cushion his fall with his hands, before trying to kick Altair in the face. Ezio grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up, pushing him away from the doorway as Altair released him.

“Are you done?” Altair inquired as he dusted off his shirt. Desmond nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“How is this happening?” Desmond asked. “You’re dead, all of you.” He paused as soon as the words left his mouth, considering them. “I’m supposed to be dead. Is this some sort of fucked up heaven bullshit?”

Altair’s lips quirked up in a smirk at his outburst. “This is not the afterlife.”

“Then how are you here? How the fuck am I?”

“You were barely alive when we found you,” Connor said. He motioned for Desmond to take a seat. Desmond did, cradling his head in his hands. “If we had not been following you, and had not found you in time, you would be in the hands of the Templars again.”

“I remember that.”

“You do?” Ezio asked, sounding surprised. “We did not think you had regained consciousness.”

“When we saw the state of your body, we did not know if you could return,” Connor added.

“I just remember that I couldn’t breathe,” Desmond said. “There was a gunshot... I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see anything.”

“When we rescued you your eyes were nothing more than cinders,” Altair told him. “Your body was not in much better condition.”

Desmond looked at them for a second before gesturing to his body. “I think I’m in one piece. How’d I get better if I was in as bad of condition as you said I was.”

“When you died, it triggered your Apple. It began to bring you back; to heal you.”

“Bullshit.”

“It took you a month to begin breathing again,” Altair said, his voice almost monotonous as he began to list things off. “A month from then to wake up for the first time. Half a month from that day to today.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” Desmond said, gesturing to the darkening windows. “There’s no way it’s been weeks.”

“Healing takes time,” Connor replied.

“Wait, triggered my Apple?” Desmond asked, sitting back in the wing backed chair.

Altair nodded, taking the seat across from Desmond. He considered the half-played game in front of him before capturing one pawn with another. He held the captured pawn, rolling it between his fingers as he looked at Desmond.

“What do you know about the Pieces of Eden?”

“They’re made by Those Who Came Before,” Desmond said. “Juno said that they were failed solutions to stop the Earth from burning.”

“They did something else,” Ezio told him. “They held an unknown secret, even to Them.”

“What, cheating death?”

“Immortality,” Connor corrected him, coming to the board and moving a knight.

“That’s not possible,” Desmond said bluntly. He looked across the table at Altair. “I-Ezio saw your corpse.”

“An illusion,” Ezio said, coming to Altair’s shoulder. He surveyed the board before reaching and moving a bishop to counter Connor.

“Even for all my years spent studying my Apple, I never learned this secret.” Altair admitted. “One that I spent two hundred years thinking on.”

“Before attempting to kill me,” Ezio added. He dodged away as Altair swiped at him.

“As you said, attempted,” Altair reminded him. Ezio chuckled, but moved closer towards Desmond. “If I had wanted to kill you, I would have.”

“But you look young,” Desmond said, looking at him. He looked no older than he had when Desmond had relived his life in the Animus. “I-Ezio saw you as an old man.”

“I was twenty-six when I first used my Piece of Eden,” Altair said. He reached across the board and moved a rook to capture Ezio’s bishop. “Ezio was thirty, Connor thirty-four. The Pieces took an imprint of us at the age when we first used them, and returned us to that age wen we died.”

“But why?”

“They seek out complements,” Ezio said, moving a pawn to threaten Connor’s knight. “Perhaps guardians would be a better term.”

“But I had your Apple,” Desmond told him as he watched their strange game of chess.

“The Apple did not-,” Ezio paused, searching for the right term. “Did not choose me. The Staff did, although it was lost to me for many years.”

“Did They know about this?”

“No,” Altair said. He considered the board for a moment before moving his queen to capture Ezio’s pawn. “Or else They would have destroyed them. Humans should never have had the ability to challenge their gods.”

“But Minerva and Jupiter -”

“Shared that belief, much as They would deny it,” Altair told him. “If They could have saved Themselves, have no doubt that humanity would be nothing more than a race of slaves.”

“Then how did Minerva not see it?” Desmond asked. “She said she had seen the future without me, if I agreed and freed Juno. Why wouldn’t she have seen me alive?”

“She would not have,” Connor said, sitting with the board at eye level. He picked up a pawn and moved it to threaten Altair’s queen. “Until you died, you appeared to be as any other human.”

“Albeit one with a high concentration of First Civilization DNA,” Altair amended.

“We exist outside of time,” Ezio said, mirroring Connor on the opposite side of the board. He moved a knight and took Connor’s pawn, freeing Altair’s queen. “Her fortune-telling would have never seen us, or you.”

“So what?” Desmond asked. “Juno’s still out there. I have to stop her.”

“You need to, or you feel obligated to?” Altair replied, looking up from the board.

“Both,” Desmond retorted. “She’s going to take over the world.”

Altair sat back in his chair, rolling the pawn between his fingers again. “And you know how she’s planning on doing this? Her methods? Or are you just planning on rushing in as you have before and revealing your survival? Spoiling any chance you may have at a surprise attack? The Animus may have given you access to our skills, but you are no better than a novice.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit here and watch?” Desmond asked, standing up from his chair. “I’m supposed to let her win?”

“No,” Connor replied. “But you must seek patience. Juno has played a long game. We have time before she begins to move in earnest.”

“And we will use that time wisely,” Ezio assured him. He gestured towards Altair. “As the old man said, you do not know how to use the skills you have.”

“We will train you,” Altair said. He tossed his pawn at Desmond, who caught it out of the air. “We will train you in what your mind already knows. You will be a Master in form as well as name.”

“And then what?”

A wicked grin was shared among the Master Assassins.

“And then we hunt.”


End file.
